


Nearer To You

by shellhead



Category: The Hobbit (2012) RPF
Genre: First Kiss, M/M, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-10
Updated: 2013-03-10
Packaged: 2017-12-04 20:06:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/714566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shellhead/pseuds/shellhead
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aidan falls asleep everywhere. Dean falls in love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nearer To You

**Author's Note:**

> [This prompt](http://hobbit-kink.livejournal.com/4307.html?thread=10089171#t10089171) was adorable, and so is Aidan. I blame both things.

It starts innocently enough.

It's understandable, really. This big of a production, with this strenuous a shooting schedule, it takes only a week of filming for everyone to be exhausted. And though Dean knows that Aidan is not completely new to this, he still is one of the youngest and least experienced of their numbers, and Dean is not at all surprised when it's Aidan on whom the exhaustion seems to takes the largest toll. So when Dean sees Aidan curled up fast asleep in one of Bilbo's comfortable-looking armchairs as they wait for the crew to re-set the dinner scene, he initially thinks nothing of it.

But then it happens again. And a third time. Until by the end of the day, he's seen Aidan asleep during five separate occasions, and in spots each more ridiculous than the last, and always where the hustle and bustle of the cast and crew seems the busiest.

At that point he's curious, and slightly bemused, and he makes a point to watch out for it the next morning, still half-convinced that the day before had been a fluke. But sure enough, when Aidan shuffles into the makeup trailer and takes a seat in the chair next to Dean, he's out like a light, head lolling back and mouth slightly open in his oblivion.

"Is that normal?" he asks Aidan's makeup artist Lucy, jerking a thumb in Aidan's direction. He's now started snoring.

"Oh sure," she says. "I rather prefer my victims to be sleeping." 

She airbrushes whiskers on Aidan's face just to get a laugh, and Dean snaps a shot with his phone. It means she has to start her job over, but she's finished before his own makeup artist Michelle is even done with Fili's nose. Dean watches Lucy nudge Aidan awake, and he blinks sleepily only for a moment before jumping up, and clapping Dean's shoulder on his way out. 

Regardless of what Lucy had told him, Dean is pretty sure he's the first of the cast to notice Aidan's odd sleeping habits, and he briefly entertains the idea of mentioning something, to one of his fellow dwarves, or perhaps to Martin or even Ian, but it's just not a _problem_. Aidan is always awake before he's needed, and never seems to be in that disoriented post-nap daze Dean is unfortunately familiar with. Aidan sleeps a lot; what else is there to say? 

Besides, Dean is not sure who he'd even _tell_ ; it's still the early days of his time on set, while the rest of them have already been together for months, and he can't shake the feeling that he's still not welcome. No one has ever been anything but kind to him, but Dean still hears people talk about Rob from time to time; from what he hears, Rob was a pretty swell guy, and everyone was sad to see him go. 

Dean on the other hand, he's second-rate, the understudy no one paid to see; he was not Peter's first choice, and his wavering confidence certainly won't let him forget it. And though he's not one to be shy or antisocial, it's hard to act like he belongs when he doesn't exactly believe it. So far the only person Dean's gotten to know is Aidan, and that's only because he plays the man's brother, and he can't exactly talk to Aidan when it's Aidan he wants to talk about. 

So he waits for someone else to point it out, and grows increasingly frustrated wondering why no one seems to _notice_. Aidan isn't exactly taking measures to hide his strange habit; it was just yesterday that Dean saw Aidan actually fall asleep in the middle of the set, strewn out on the ground without a care in the world as the crew worked around him. Dean woke him up five minutes before they were needed just too see his affronted, sleepy frown. 

The answer hits him, one night as he lies awake in bed thinking about it, because oh, right, everyone has already been together for months; the reason they've been so seemingly oblivious to Aidan's strange behavior is because they _already knew about it_.

He feels stupid, and even more ostracized than before, furious with himself and his inability to just fucking _fit in_. And the anger and the self-loathing and the frustration build up, until he happens upon a sleeping Aidan balancing astride a particularly large and uncomfortable tree root during a break from the morning's shoot, and Dean just sort of crumbles. 

"Okay, don't take this the wrong way," Dean blurts out later that same day, when everyone is crammed into craft services trying to snag a proper meal in the thirty minutes they have for lunch break, "but what is up with you falling asleep everywhere?" 

Jed, who is just behind Dean in line piling his plate with a large portion of fruit salad, breaks out into throaty laughter. 

"Oh yes, that," Aidan says, shooting Jed a bemused look, before glancing over at Dean wryly. "It's my thing. You know, how some people can whistle with their fingers or can, I don't know, give themselves a blowjob. I can fall asleep anywhere." He shrugs, nonchalant, and breaks out into a wide grin. "You don't think it's weird, do you?" he asks. 

"Not weird at all," Dean says, even though it is. Apparently he's _still_ not confident enough with this close-knit group to disagree with anyone, but at least he summoned up the nerve to ask. 

"No, it's weird, mate," Jed puts in, and walks off laughing. 

Dean piles his plate full before turning away to head over to a table full of his camera operator buddies as usual, when he feels Aidan's arm slip comfortably around his shoulders. "You have any bizarre shit we should know about, Deano?" he asks, steering him over to the table where Jed has already joined Peter and Ken. 

Dean is a little taken aback, at both Aidan's question and his familiarity, but he recovers quickly enough to smile. "Nothing I'm telling you lot about," he replies.

"Eh, that's probably wise," Aidan agrees. He tugs on one of Fili's mustache braids before pulling away, sliding into the seat next to Peter.

Dean hesitates, uncertain of what to do next, but Aidan looks up to grin at him, and Dean determinedly strides forward to join them.

 

*  *  *

 

"Okay, Jed was right, this is getting weird," Dean says. He's standing in front of a still-costumed Richard, who is sitting down with Aidan just beside him, Aidan's head snuggled into the shoulder of Richard's fur-lined coat. To the surprise of no one, he is fast asleep.

"Makeup sent me to find you two when you didn't show up to get all your shit off," Dean explains, motioning to his own prosthetic-less face. "Richard, were you honestly this late because _you didn't want to wake him up_?"

Richard looks sheepish, and seems about to stutter a heartfelt apology when Aidan opens his eyes. "Oh good, you're yelling at Richard," he says. He stands up with a stretch, and fails to stifle an endearing yawn. "Hope this means you've stopped pussyfooting around," Aidan continues, before grabbing a handful of Richard's coat and hoisting him to his feet. "It was getting just a bit annoying you being so fucking agreeable all the time."

Dean's mind sputters to a standstill. "…What?" he manages, but Aidan ignores him in lieu of smiling apologetically at Richard. 

"Sorry about that, mate," Aidan says, and Dean is glad their attention is elsewhere because he's currently doing a great impression of a gobsmacked trout. "Just wake me up next time, alright? I'm giving you my express permission, I won't mind."

"Does that mean there'll _be_ a next time?" Richard asks, picking up a few of Thorin's items Props has yet to cart off. 

"Probably," Aidan replies, shrugging and then laughing when Richard rolls his eyes. They move away from where Dean is still standing in a daze.

"You coming?" Dean hears, and he looks around. Aidan and Richard are a few yards away, staring back at him expectantly.

"I'm all done for the day?" Dean says, and he can't help that it comes out as a question because he doesn't understand why they're waiting for him.

"We'll get drinks later, come on," Aidan urges.

Dean hesitantly follows after them.

The wait ends up being an hour, but Dean finds he doesn't mind it, passing the time chatting with the makeup girls and Richard, and watching Aidan in his makeup chair, fast asleep.

 

*  *  *

 

"We're going out. Collect your brother," James demands loudly.

"You do it," Dean says, even as he tucks his cell in the crook of his shoulder to grab the last few things he needs from his trailer and heads out the door. "I'm always stuck with collection duty."

What he doesn't tell James is that he secretly loves it; it fills him with a warmth not unlike pride when people always assume he knows where Aidan is off sleeping. Plus, Dean likes the lazy smile Aidan is always quick to offer when he first wakes, a fact he is certainly taking with him to the grave.

"Yes, but I'm already at my car with Will, the pipsqueak, and Graham and you're… not," James says, his voice tinny through the phone. "The Proximity Clause trumps any excuse you can come up with, Deano; he's meters away."

"Fine," he says, already in front of Aidan's trailer. "The usual place?"

"That's the one," James says, before hanging up. 

Dean slips his phone into his pocket. "Aidan!" he calls out, reaching up to pound heavily on the door.

Surprisingly, he hears a muffled curse from inside the trailer almost immediately. "Jesus, alright, _alright_ ," Aidan calls out, and the trailer door swings open a moment later to reveal a disgruntled Irishman. He looks tired, and the spaces under his eyes are dark without makeup, but it doesn't look like he's been sleeping. "Why the fuck are you being so damn loud?"

"I thought you'd be asleep," Dean says, edging his way around Aidan to slip into the trailer, heading over to the small refrigerator to peruse its contents. "You're always fucking asleep."

"Well I wasn't, there's no one – I wasn't," Aidan says irritably. "What do you want, I'm about to go home."

"James invited us to go drinking. Will and Adam and Graham are going too."

"I'm tired, just go without me."

Dean snaps the fridge door shut, its shelves disappointingly barren. "You slept all day today; you're going."

Aidan glares, but he looks contemplative. "Fine," he says bitterly. "Let me get a jacket." He disappears into the back of the trailer, slamming the door behind him.

After five minutes of waiting Dean has been through the refrigerator three more times, and Aidan has yet to reappear. "Dammit, Aidan," he sighs, before moving to the door and gently opening it. Aidan is lying on his back, spread-eagle across the small bed. He's asleep. Figures.

"Aidan, come on, wake up," Dean murmurs softly, which he realizes is detrimental to waking him up, but the sight of Aidan sleeping makes him want to whisper. He steps further into the tiny space.

Aidan's face is smooth in sleep, peaceful, no longer scowling. His jawline is softened by stubble, and Dean has the sudden urge to scratch along it lightly with his fingernails.

‘ _So fucking attractive_ ,' Dean thinks, and feels a twinge of jealousy at the thought. He huffs at himself, a little embarrassed, before grabbing a pillow from the bed and swinging it down hard on Aidan's stomach.

Aidan wakes with a loud yelp. "We're going now," Dean sings out, tossing the pillow at Aidan's face before heading towards the door. He hears some low grumbling, but Aidan is soon following on his heels.

 

*  *  *

 

Dean finds it only when there's a job to be done or a meal to be had that Aidan is ever awake, and this day is no different. The Company is all packed into craft services, crowded around tables and scarfing down their food, when Dean's eyes find Aidan just as he explodes into laughter, glee etched in every line of his face, every motion of his hands. Dean watches, transfixed and breathless, and all he can think is, ‘ _I want to fuck him._ '

It's only in the safety of his own apartment that Dean allows himself to remember this stray thought, and even as his belly clenches at the idea he laughs to himself, and vows to forget it. Dean is above all else a professional; and getting involved with a co-star (and one nearly a decade younger) would just be foolish.

A day later Dean is watching Aidan stroke the fletching of an arrow as he listens intently to Peter's direction, and imagines himself yanking at that damn wig of his, and with a rough grip urging Aidan to his knees.

So it's not as much a stray thought as a desperate need. Dean wants to have sex with Aidan. _Badly_.

‘ _Professionalism won't save you now_ ,' Dean's mind helpfully supplies, and he turns his thoughts away from Aidan with a helpless groan.

 

*  *  *

 

"Please tell me you have beer," Aidan whines the moment Dean throws open the door. He shoves past him into the trailer without waiting for a reply, and immediately plops a seat on the couch, throwing an arm across his face in a dramatic fashion.

"You couldn't drink your own?" Dean asks exasperatedly, letting the door swing shut behind him.

"I ran out," Aidan moans. "And the market's too far." He fixes Dean with a despondent look.

Dean sighs. He takes pity on Aidan, but only because he knows what it's like to find an empty refrigerator.

"You owe me," he growls, and clomps over to the fridge.

When he sits back on the couch a moment later with two beers in hand, Aidan is asleep.

"Dammit," he mutters, not at all surprised. He flicks on the TV, and settles in to watch an hour of crappy soaps until they're expected back on set, Aidan sleeping beside him.

At least he saved himself a beer.

 

*  *  *

 

Two days later, Aidan invites himself over to Dean's apartment and falls asleep in his recliner only five minutes after he arrives.

A week after that, Dean is playing Call of Duty with Aidan and Adam when Aidan tips over onto the armrest of the couch fast asleep mid-mission.

The very next day Aidan falls asleep on Dean's shoulder in the back of Richard's car, as a group of them all carpool together to have dinner.

This continues, again and again, and by the time the first block of filming is finished, Aidan is now falling asleep at seemingly every opportunity, to the point that Dean is more surprised to see Aidan awake rather than asleep. And though having been with Aidan nearly every moment of the past few months, when he drives a sleeping Aidan to the airport to see him off to London, Dean feels as if Aidan has already been gone as long.

"Sorry for falling asleep on you again," Aidan apologizes as they hug goodbye, and he claps Dean on the shoulder when he pulls away. "I'll see you soon, yeah?"

Dean smiles, and leans back against his car in an effort to resist hugging Aidan again. "You get some sleep while you're gone, alright?" he can't help but add, and Aidan laughs.

"I'm visiting my mum's, it shouldn't be a problem," he says, and with one last affectionate pat on the shoulder disappears into the crowded airport.

 

*  *  *

 

Aidan is true to his word, coming back after the break looking well rested and awake, so much so that days go by where Dean doesn't see Aidan asleep even once. When Dean presses the subject, Aidan simply laughs. "My sister makes a good pillow," is all he says on the matter.

A few days later and Aidan's back to falling asleep at every opportunity, and Dean's back to that lingering sense of disappointment, that maybe he's not important enough to Aidan that he would choose sleep over him. But there are new scenes to film, and new actors to meet, and he's no longer the newest member of the cast, no longer the only one of them that doesn't quite fit it. It's exciting, and he allows himself to get caught up in the freshness of it all, grateful that his desperate infatuation towards Aidan—as well as his obsession with Aidan's odd sleeping habits—seem to dull from the distractions.

A month into the shoot, and the youngest of the cast are all in Adam's crappy apartment after a particularly grueling day of work; Luke, Evangeline, and Lee strewn out on the carpet in front of the TV, Adam on the loveseat, and Dean and Aidan taking the couch. They're watching some shit rom-com because everything else is shittier, but Dean doesn't really mind. He's too anxious sitting in such close proximity to Aidan to pay attention to _plot._

It all came back to him in a rush, the minute Dean found himself squeezed on the small couch next to Aidan. The distractions of the last few weeks only seemed to hide the fact that Dean is _half in love with him_. Because they're still together almost every moment Aidan is awake, to be further seduced by his infectious laughter, his casual yet affectionate touch. Aidan is crisp and real and kind, and Dean could no longer resist his charms than he could resist his need to breathe.

Which is why Dean is staring at the television while his attention is really directed at the man beside him, watching as Aidan's head droops down lower and lower towards Dean's shoulder in his exhaustion. And when Aidan suddenly looms up in his peripheral, he hesitates even as he knows he shouldn't, and crows to himself in triumph when Aidan finally tips over on his shoulder, fast asleep.

His hair tickles Dean's neck, and his cheek is soft and warm through Dean's shirt, and it takes all his self control not to lean his own head atop of Aidan's mop of hair. Aidan sighs then, and snuggles closer, and it's with a thrilled jolt that Dean realizes Aidan's lips are just grazing his collarbone. He manages to mask his whimper as a cough, but everyone still glances at him in unison. There's a heavy pause.

"That's adorable," Evangeline says, while Lee snorts and Luke's grin turns mischievous.

"Is there something we should know about here?" Adam asks.

"Yeah," Dean blurts out, "I'm in love with him."

He doesn't mean to say it, but Aidan is pressed up against his side like he never means to leave, and he smells of cinnamon gum and fresh laundry and the words flow out of him too quickly to stop. He jerks in surprise, and with a sinking heart he feels Aidan begin to stir at the motion.

"You're in _love with him_?" Adam all but shrieks, while Luke just laughs and turns his attention back to the television, and Evangeline triumphantly crows, "Knew it!"

"No, I lied, shut _up_ ," Dean hisses, just as Aidan blearily lifts his head.

"Someone change the channel, this movie is utter piss," Aidan rasps, and settles back down on Dean's shoulder to resume his nap. Adam opens his mouth as if to blurt out more cries of disbelief, but a desperate glare from Dean thankfully silences him.

They all waylay him later when Aidan leaves for a Skype date with his parents, demanding he tell them the truth, to explain, but after a few minutes of dodging questions Dean manages to distract them with an offer of free pizza, and they eventually let it go.

"Were you really lying?" Lee asks him quietly, while the other three argue over toppings.

"No," Dean replies truthfully, because he still desperately wants someone to know. "No, I wasn't lying."

Lee pats him on the shoulder, and gives him a consoling smile. "I hope you work it all out, Deano."

Dean attempts a smile in return, but it comes out more as a grimace.

"So do I."

 

*  *  *

 

"So who the fuck are you in love with?"

Dean's stomach clenches in a cold panic. He closes his eyes and sighs. _Of course_ , he thinks, and opens his eyes to see Aidan standing over him. 

"How much did you hear, then?" he asks, shifting nervously in his chair. They're on location, and the sun is just peeking over the nearest mountain ridge, forcing him to squint. Aidan shuffles over a few steps, and his shadow shields Dean against the glare.

"You're in love with someone," he replies, eyebrows furrowed in confusion, or perhaps anger. "That's all I heard."

"You're being nosy," Dean says.

"No, I'm looking out for you." Aidan steps a little closer, and crosses his arms defiantly. "So who is it? Someone here, right? It has to be someone here, is it Richard? He's too tall for you, mate."

"It's not Richard," Dean insists. "We were, uh, talking about the movie. Ben. Ben Affleck. I'm in love with Ben Affleck."

"You're lying," Aidan demands.

For a brief instant, Dean entertains telling Aidan the truth, but he simply has to imagine Aidan's horrified expression, the painful sting of rejection, and it's all too easy to dismiss.

Dean doesn't trust himself to speak, so he shrugs, and stares down at his knees.

Aidan fidgets in front of him. "Thanks," he finally says, startling Dean into looking up. He looks sad now, but his eyes betray nothing more.

"For what?"

"For lying to spare my feelings," Aidan says, and he puts a hand on Dean's shoulder to brace himself as he leans in close. Dean tenses, his chest tight with a desperate hope. Aidan huffs out a short, deprecating laugh, and faster than Dean can flinch back presses a soft kiss to his cheek.

But then he walks away. _He walks away_.

And Dean realizes then that Aidan knows, he _knows_ that Dean's in love with him. The thrill of Aidan kissing him is washed away in an instant. It was simply a rejection, a pity kiss.

A goodbye.

 

*  *  *

 

Aidan is avoiding him. Dean doesn't really blame him.

Still, it's childish, and it makes the moments they do have to work together all the more awkward. It's painful too, for Dean at least, to see Aidan leave the room the second he enters it, for him to ignore his texts, his calls, to lie about what he's doing when Dean wants to see him. The only time Dean can ever seem to catch up to Aidan is when he's _sleeping_ , and usually surrounded by so many people a confrontation would be impossible. And god does that hurt, to see Aidan curled up next to someone, or _on_ someone, when that someone used to be Dean, should only _ever_ be Dean.

But no, that's not happening. Aidan's recent behavior has made his response to Dean's feelings quite clear.

Days pass, weeks, and still Aidan avoids him, until it all comes to a head with only a fortnight left of shooting. It's a rainy Saturday evening, and Dean is curled up on his couch in front of the TV, buried under the soft, bright pink afghan his mother once knitted him, and surviving on a steady intake of Earl Grey and stale crackers with cheese.

His phone buzzes three times in the course of the evening before he bothers checking it; they're all messages from James. Collect your brother, we're going out, the first one reads, and those familiar words punch such a hole in Dean's chest, he suddenly has to fight back tears. A few moments later he replies with an expletive-filled refusal, then sinks deeper into his couch with a dry sob.

This can't go on. Something has to change. Dean has to corner Aidan into telling him what in God's name is going on, or Dean is going to lose his fucking mind.

Dean's storming out the door before he can even think twice about it, and is halfway to the car when he realizes he's gone completely barefoot. He growls at himself but doesn't hesitate, striding towards the car, yanking it open, and sliding in.

He's at Aidan's place in five minutes flat, and pounds heavily on the door until he hears the lock turning, stepping back a pace as it opens to reveal an exhausted-looking Aidan. His face pales the instant he takes in Dean's frown.

"You've been avoiding me," Dean says, before shoving his way into the apartment.

Aidan is frustratingly compliant, simply shutting the door and walking into the kitchen without once glancing at Dean, or protesting his rude entry. "You want a beer?" he asks.

"Perfect," Dean snaps, even though it's anything but.

Dean waits on Aidan's sofa as he shuffles off to the kitchen, and crosses his arms defiantly but feels too much like a pouting teenager, and ends up fiddling with his phone instead. Ten minutes later it's with a sickening feeling that he realizes Aidan has yet to come back with the beers.

The scene waiting for him in the kitchen isn't at all surprising.

Aidan is slouched over the small wooden table he has crowded in next to some cabinets, his arms crossed with his head rested on the crook of his elbow.

He's fast asleep.

"Aidan, you _shit_ ," Dean snarls, and shakes Aidan's shoulder so harshly his head slips off his arms and lands with a dull thump on the tabletop. Aidan _meeps_ , and sits up so abruptly his chair almost tips over backwards, his arms wheeling around wildly before he can steady himself. 

"Do you have fucking narcolepsy?" Dean snaps, as a confused and disoriented Aidan blinks up at him. Dean is legitimately starting to worry. No one should sleep this much during the day; it's _abnormal_.

"What?" Aidan asks, and his brow furrows when his brain finally catches up with the question. "What, no, I don't have narcolepsy. _You_ have narcolepsy."

"You've fallen asleep on me one too many times, Aidan," Dean says. "I'm sick of it. This is just not – it's not normal."

"Look, I'm just tired," Aidan pleads. "We're all tired."

"But _I_ don't keep falling asleep spending time with my _friends_ ," Dean snaps bitterly. "Neither does Richard or Lee or anyone else in the whole goddamn crew. What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"I can't – I can't fucking sleep alone, _alright_?"

Dean stares. 

Aidan shrinks away as if startled at his own outburst, his gaze immediately falling to the table.

"…What do you mean?" Dean asks, breathlessly. "I don't–"

"I need someone with me, in – in bed, or just around, even in the next room." He shrugs, still looking down, avoiding Dean's eyes. "But if I feel alone, or, or _whatever_ , I just… can't fall asleep."

Dean sinks into the chair opposite Aidan, rubbing a rough hand over his face as he takes it all in. 

"And it's normally not a problem," Aidan continues, starting to nervously trace his fingers along the grain of the wooden tabletop. "But I'm all by myself here, and it's been _hard_. I'm up all night, and catch sleep whenever I can during the day, but I just…" His voice trails off, and he finally meets Dean's gaze, his eyes wide and innocent and sad. "I'm just so fucking tired."

"Ah," Dean replies delicately. "You should have said. You know, earlier, when you kept _falling asleep on me_."

"Right," Aidan says, wincing. "Sorry about that. I've gotten really comfortable around you. You make me sleepy."

"Because I…I make you feel like you're not alone?"

Aidan blushes, and Dean's heart stutters at the sight. "Well yeah," Aidan admits. "But also because I'm – actually, no," Aidan says harshly, standing up so abruptly his chair scrapes along the kitchen tile until it hits the wall, "never mind."

"Wait, Aidan," Dean says, rising out of his chair and stumbling forward, grabbing for Aidan's wrist but only managing to snag a bit of his shirtsleeve instead. Much to his surprise, Aidan turns back to face him. Dean drops his handhold. His heart is pounding.

"What were you going to say?" he prompts, when Aidan just stands there meekly. "Come on, you were going to say something."

Aidan looks conflicted, so Dean grabs for his sleeve again, and tugs gently, offering up a tentative smile. "It's me, come on, you can tell me anything."

"Not this," Aidan says, even as he leans forward to kiss him.

Aidan's lips are warm, and dry, parted just slightly, and when Aidan's tongue nudges against his lips, Dean lets out an involuntary noise of surprise, and suddenly Aidan is pushing away, backing up against the wall and staring at Dean in a wild panic.

"I didn't—"

"No," Dean whines, and yanks at the front of Aidan's shirt so he stumbles forward, their faces close, their lips almost touching. They breathe in each other's air for but a moment, and then Aidan's face darkens, and his lips are properly back on him. 

Dean opens up almost immediately, this time ready, _yearning_ for Aidan's tongue, and he presses up against Aidan's hard form as the kiss turns filthy, and he's giddy with want, warmth fizzing through his veins at every whine from Aidan's throat, every touch of his tongue.

And then Dean feels a pulling at the waist of his jeans, and he grins into Aidan's mouth when he realizes Aidan's hooked his fingers into the belt loops at the side of Dean's hips, leading him away from the kitchen with gentle tugs.

"Where are we going?" Dean breathes out against his cheek, before darting his tongue out and licking at the crease of Aidan's lips.

"Bedroom," Aidan replies, turning his head to re-claim Dean's mouth.

They somehow make it to the bed, Dean landing on his back after a push from Aidan, and Aidan crawls over him, nudging a knee in between Dean's legs before settling his long form down on top of him. It's warm and comfortable, and their urgency cools down, until they're just lazily necking, Dean with a hand under Aidan's shirt and rubbing patterns into the small of his back. 

He feels Aidan settle down lower a while later, resting more of his weight on the mattress, and his head drops down on the pillow next to Dean. He pulls back to see Aidan's eyes fluttering closed. They crack back open a moment later, though this time drooping dangerously low.

"Aidan, you shithead," Dean says fondly. "Are you falling asleep on me?"

"Noooo," Aidan slurs, blindly nuzzling at Dean's face to find his lips again.

"Get off me, you lug," Dean says, shoving him to the side, and Aidan flops out bonelessly against the sheets. He tilts his head towards Dean, and with his eyes closed he grins.

"Shhh," Aidan says needlessly.

Aidan is asleep a moment later, but for the first time since he's known him, Dean doesn't mind.

 

*  *  *

 

Dean cracks an eye open, and loudly hisses his displeasure at the beam of sunlight shooting in through a crack in the blinds. The body under him groans at the noise, and shifts ever so slightly closer.

"Whazzat," mumbles a familiar Irish lilt.

Then Dean remembers where he is. And who it is he's sleeping on.

"Oh shit," he says, and he starts to sit up, but Aidan's arm shoots out faster than Dean can dodge it, grabbing him around the waist.

"No," Aidan says firmly, and he tugs Dean back down, moving around restlessly until his head is tucked into Dean's shoulder snuggly, his arm still around Dean's waist. "That's the best sleep I've had in months."

"You're welcome?" Dean says. He's tense, though his doesn't want to be, but there's still too much between them that he doesn't understand, and he's on unsure footing, even with Aidan wrapped around him like a warm, comfortable octopus.

"Hey, so who is it that you're in love with?" Aidan asks suddenly. 

Dean stiffens so abruptly that Aidan whines in protest, and Aidan pulls away slightly, propping his elbow up and resting his cheek against an upturned palm.

"Because, I mean," Aidan continues, "that thing I couldn't quite tell you about last night is that I'm in love with you, and it would be kind of awkward if that person wasn't me."

"…What," Dean says, his face growing hot, and he studies Aidan's expression for signs of deceit, but he's as open as ever, and the smile he's offering is tentative but hopeful. "But you knew I was in love with you!" Dean finally exclaims. "That's why you were avoiding me, because you didn't want to be around—"

Aidan sits up fully, startling Dean into silence, and he looks down in disbelief. "I was avoiding you because I _wanted_ it to be me, and you'd made it clear it wasn't!"

They stare at each other for a long moment, until Dean snorts, and Aidan breaks out into a wide grin before collapsing back onto Dean, and laughing into his shoulder.

"It's you, Aidan," Dean says softly. "Of course it's you." 

"Good," Aidan says decidedly, before licking a wet stripe up Dean's neck.

Dean groans, tilting his head back in a way he hopes is inviting; Aidan hums approvingly.

"If you fall asleep on me this time, I swear to _God_ I'll castrate you," Dean growls, as Aidan shifts closer, sliding his leg up over Dean's waist to straddle him.

"Not this time," Aidan says with a brilliant smile, and leans in for a kiss.

 

 

END.


End file.
